Utopian Melody
by Zoe Jane Carmina
Summary: Christine's life has been turned upside-down by tragedy. She chooses to become a Mercenary to keep the balance of power between Heaven and Hell. But when Lucifer crosses her path she must choose for herself whether to stay her course or forge a new path.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: That Fateful Evening**

She knew he'd come home the moment the door slammed. No doubt he'd been drinking again. Like every night for the last few weeks, he'd get off of work and walk over to the bar to drown his sorrows. Then, he'd come home, go straight into their bedroom, and pass out without even bothering to change his clothes. He knew the smell of the bar smoke would bother her, so he did it on purpose.

Christine and Dan had been dating for the past three years. They were fine up until the time he'd asked her to marry him. He'd moved in with her and her little sister Carly. She had been responsible for Carly for the last three years, after their parents died. At 13, Carly had no choice but to live with a relative, and Christine, 22 at the time, fought the courts to be the one that took care of her. Dan was her lawyer, and together they had made the courts see that the only real course of action was to put Carly in the custody of Christine.

He seemed so much different back then, full of so much life and vigor. He was so passionate that she couldn't help but fall in love with him. They began dating, and a year ago, Dan asked her to marry him. Things went all downhill from there.

Dan moved in with her and Carly, and the suffocating closeness put a strain on their relationship. They began to fight, and it was slowly tearing them apart. Because of the strain at home, she'd started working herself sick at the office, while Dan began taking to the bar. They hardly saw one another anymore.

Even though their relationship was in ruins, Christine remembered the man Dan was when she fell in love with him, and she could not bear to let that image of him die. Every time they fought, it ended with her threatening to leave, and him vowing to change and become a better man for her. The truce was tenuous at best. The moment she got her hopes up that he really meant it this time, a few nights later, he would let her down again.

Now that he was home, she could hear him stumbling around. He seemed to bang into every inch of the hallway in his drunken stupor. Christine and Carly sat in Carly's bedroom, quietly waiting for him to pass out before resuming their chat.

Unexpectedly, Dan burst into Carly's room. "So this is where you're hiding out." Dan said with a snide drawl. The tension in the room became immediately evident as the smiles dropped from both the sister's faces. "Why the fuck are you in here anyway, huh? Answer me you fucking whore!"

Knowing no answer would suffice, Christine chose the response she thought least offensive. She cleared her throat. "Carly and I were just catching up a bit. I haven't seen her much this week, so I figured we'd have some 'girl time' tonight."

"Girl time!" He spat right onto the wooden floor and looked at her with disgust. "You're such a lying sack of shit! I know what you're up to, listening to the kid tell you her bullshit lies about me, and I won't stand..."

"That's not true!" Christine interrupted, exasperated.

"The fuck it ain't!" He closed the distance between them in two strides. Christine put her hands in front of her face to brace against the inevitable. It didn't help. He slapped he hard on the face with the back of his hand. Her cheek stung.

"How dare you!" She screamed at him, standing up. She had to choke back the cry welling up in the back of her throat.

Carly silently got up off the bed and attempted to make herself as invisible as possible by pressing herself up against the wall. Christine could see her through the corner of her eye, slowly inching her way towards the door. She prayed that Carly could get out of the room and into the safety of a neighbor's house.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Dan had seen her too. Suddenly, things were turning from bad to worse. Deep in thought, Christine didn't realize how much danger Carly was in until she'd been punched in the head by Dan. Once. Twice. The third punch finally brought her to her senses.

He was screaming at Carly and flailing his hands about accusingly. "...and what's more is that she fucking believed you, didn't she? All of your filthy lies." He grabbed Carly's throat and slammed her against the far wall where he began to choke the life out of her.

In a panic, Christine's body seemed to leap into action. She was across the room as quick as lightning, and attempting to draw Dan's attention away from Carly. If anything, her insistence only made him angrier. He wouldn't let go of Carly's throat, and had taken to bashing her head against the wall. Though she seemed to struggle at first, the fire in Carly's eyes was rapidly burning out, and no amount of screaming and clawing at Dan was fixing that.

More irritable than ever, Dan swiped Christine aside, and attempted to bash Carly against the wall once more. But he was no longer facing the wall, and with a crash the window broke open. He was so surprised to find a window there, he let go of Carly's neck, and she fell out the window and hit the sidewalk and died.

Christine couldn't believe what she had seen, and she was leaning out the window when she realized that she was still in danger as well. Sure enough, Dan had recovered enough to be in a flying rage. Christine had no place else to go, and she jumped out of the window, arriving dead on the pavement next to her sister.


	2. Chapter 01: The Waking Room

**Chapter One: The Waking Room**

She opened her eyes in an unfamiliar place. She looked around but couldn't make out much of her surroundings. She seemed to be lying in bed, and there were many people sleeping in beds beside her. Everything was white around her. From the sheets, to the walls, and even the floor. Wherever she was, it was pristine. She sat up to get a better look, and noticed a plump old woman with short, curly brown hair bustling up the row. The woman stopped at the foot of her bed and peered at her.

"Ah yes! Good, good. Come with me my dear. We must be away now!"

"But where are we?" Christine asked, confused. "And where are you taking me anyway?"

"Ah, but we mustn't talk now. If you don't remember yet, you surely will later. Come now. Chop, chop!" The old woman clapped her hands twice.

Christine got out of bed and followed the old woman down to the end of the row where she was lead out of the doorway and into what seemed to be a tram station. The floor here was white as well, and the sky outside the place she had just left was an eggshell blue. She walked beside the old woman, not knowing where she was, until they came up to a young boy, no older than eight, with hair as black as night.

"Charles, this woman has just come from the waking room. You must take her to the Angel of Justice to be judged right away. Do you understand?"

"Yup I do!" The boy named Charles turned to face Christine. "C'mon lady. The judge does not like people being late." Christine stared blankly at him, clearly confused. "Well are you gonna stand there all day? You really shouldn't keep the judge waiting if you'd really like to go to Heaven."

"Heaven!" Christine exclaimed. It took a moment to recover from her shock.

"Yeah. Of course, 'Heaven.' Where'd you think you were? You did die, didn't you?" Charles said impatiently. "Look, get over it, alright? If I don't get you to the judge in the next..." he looked at the clock hanging above the tram station entrance "...four minutes, the judge is gonna leave again, and nobody's ever really sure about when he comes back, so you could be delayed his fair judgment for days! So can we please just go already?"

Christine nodded and followed him into the tram. No sooner did they get seated than the tram doors closed and they were on their way. Christine looked out the window for some sign of tracks, but there didn't seem to be any. Luckily, the tram itself seemed to know their purpose and it was speedily making its way to their destination.

She felt so thoroughly overwhelmed with being told she was dead. It was hard to even remember what had happened to her. She and Carly were in Carly's room talking when Dan came home. He was screaming and yelling about something, but it was too fuzzy in her memory to recall what it was about. He was so incredibly drunk that night, and so very angry. He started swearing at Carly and before she knew it...

Christine gasped as all of the horrifying details washed over her. She felt like she was drowning in sorrow until she felt a strong tug on her arm. Charles' insistent tugging brought her back to her senses.

"Come on! Gees. You're the most stubborn woman ever! What's the problem now? Ya got cold feet or something?" Charles looked anxious to get off the tram.

Her focus settled on him, and then she looked around, taking in the white-winged Angel of Justice nearby. He was very old, and garbed in all white as he was, she thought that he looked something like she imagined him to look like the wizard Gandalf the White from the old Tolkien books. He didn't seem nearly as kindly though.

She followed Charles off the tram, and they hurried across the dais. She couldn't help feeling that she was running to her doom. The Angel of Justice seemed ready to leave, but luck would have it that they came to him in time.

Christine had never been in front of a judge as intimidating as the Angel of Justice before, so she wasn't sure what to expect. She stood there in silence, waiting, she supposed, for some magical spell or reading of the great book to determine what fate was in store for her.

Instead the angel just stood there and stared at her. She had the strange feeling Charles forgot to mention something about how to address the Angel of Justice. Or maybe he did and she'd missed it? She shifted her weight onto her other foot, uncomfortable.

Finally, the angel spoke. "Well, are you going to tell me your name or aren't you! I will not wait here all day! Speak!"

Christine cringed at the sound of his tone. "I'm sorry sir. Chris. My name is Chris."

The Angel of Justice rolled his eyes at her and sighed heavily. "Your real name, miss. All of it if you please."

"Ah. Christine Abigail Taylor. So sorry." She had definitely missed something.

"Right." The angel's quill dipped itself into the dark red ink before it, and began to scribe the information of it's own accord. "And how exactly did you end up dead Miss Taylor?"

"I... um... I jumped out of the same window my sister Carly was dropped out of." She replied.

"Carly Marie Taylor, did you say?" The angel's eyebrow lifted in interest.

"Yes! Oh, please tell me! She's made it then? Into Heaven?" Christine was desperate to know.

"Indeed." The angel replied, no longer amused. "So tell me, why exactly did you jump out of the window?"

"It was because..." Christine thought back. "...Carly died because I was foolish. She and Dan were fighting and when I tried to stand up for her, I just made it worse. She died because of me! It was all my fault!"

The angel raised an eyebrow at her. "Am I to understand then, that you jumped out because you felt guilty for her death?"

"Yeah. I mean, yes, I did." She replied.

"Have you anything more to tell me?"

"No." She couldn't think of anything more to say, and the longer she explained, the longer she'd have to wait to tell Carly how sorry she was and beg her forgiveness.

"Then I am ready to pass judgment, and you shall hear it. Christine Abigail Taylor, by the power vested in me by the Lord Almighty, I declare you unfit for Heaven's grace. At this point, you have three further options. First, you may choose to accept my judgment and go straight to Hell. Second, you could wander the Earth forevermore in spirit form. Finally, you may deny my judgment and petition the Council of Elder Angels for a different judgment. Christine Abigail Taylor, I ask of you, which do you choose?"

"I... I've been denied?" Christine was in shock.

"That is as I have said. Your three choices are before you. Which have you chosen?" The Angel of Justice seemed irritable.

"But I can't have been denied! Carly made it, and I have to see her to tell her how sorry I am and that it was all my fault!" She was on the verge of tears.

"That is impossible." The judge replied curtly.

"No! There has to be another way!" Christine was shouting now.

"I see you have made your choice. Very well. Be advised that should you lose your petition with the Council of Elder Angels, you will go straight to Hell. You must meet with them tomorrow at first light. Eternal damnation awaits you should you choose to be late. This young man knows the way and will instruct you further. And do take care to heed his instructions this time. The council does not take kindly to those who do not even have the nerve enough to greet them. That is all."

The quill in front of the Angel of Justice returned to its resting place, and he closed his book after it. It was quitting time for him, and he stepped off his podium and walked away. In the light of the setting sun he seemed to simply disappear.

Christine stood there in utter disbelief. She didn't know what the Angel of Justice expected to hear, but whatever it was, she hadn't said it.

Charles walked towards her just then. "You really botched that whole thing up, huh lady? Didn't you listen to anything I told you on the tram?"

"No, I... I guess I didn't. I was so busy trying to remember how I died that I..."

Charles interrupted her. "Yeah, well you better pay attention to the new instructions, or it's off to Hell with you!"

"I understand." Christine replied.

"Yeah, well... okay." Charles said. "We'd better get you back to the waking room. You don't want to be here once the sun is gone."

"Why's that?" Christine asked.

"The psychopomps of Hell come to collect the souls which the judge has denied passage after sundown. They are only permitted from sundown to sunup." Charles shuddered. "Anyway, let's get out of here."

Christine nodded, and followed him onto the tram as it took them swiftly back to the waking room once more.


	3. Chapter 02: The Council of Elder Angels

**Chapter Two: The Council of Elder Angels**

Christine had stayed up listening to Charles' instructions for the better part of the evening. Even after he'd left her for the night, Christine couldn't sleep. She thought about what she would say to the Council of Elder Angels into the wee hours, and by the time Charles came to get her, she still hadn't slept a wink.

"You don't look so good lady." Charles noted tactlessly.

"I couldn't sleep. I tried to, I just..." Christine trailed off.

"Yeah, I guess the waking room isn't really good for that kind of thing." Charles said thoughtfully. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Christine replied with a heavy sigh. "Let's get this show on the road." Charles looked up at her curiously. He clearly didn't understand the expression. Christine sighed again. "Let's go." Charles' face lit up with understanding. He smiled and nodded, then turned on his heel, leading her out towards the trams.

Again the tram started moving as soon as they were seated; though this time they traveled in a different direction. So long as they ended up where they needed to be, Christine didn't care. She was determined to relax and enjoy the scenery before having to meet with the Council.

Christine stared in wonder at the beauty all around her. Everything she saw seemed to be the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. The architects up in Heaven were masters of their art. There were buildings from each era, though her most favorite building of them all proved to be no more than a little house. It had pointed arches lining the roof, giving it away as a gothic-style structure, and she wondered who lived there, or what the little building was used for. She wanted to ask Charles if he knew, but they were already turning in another direction. The tram was whisking them away so quickly that all she could see were fluffy wisps of white clouds floating by.

Then the tram began to slow down. The tram stopped abruptly in front of a small cottage riddled with vines, and it wasn't until Charles stood up that she realized they were there. The cottage itself was quaint, and didn't look much like an official meeting place for the Council of Elder Angels. But there she was, knocking at the front door.

The door opened of its own accord and Christine stepped across the threshold, with Charles at her heels. The door closed again. She supposed he was required to be everywhere she was, to make sure she didn't step out of line. She wondered briefly what it had cost him when she made a fool of herself in front of the Angel of Justice. But Christine knew she had more important things at the moment than pondering over these trivial things.

Christine cleared her mind of doubt and spoke to the seven angels sitting around the crescent table in front of her. "I am Christine Abigail Taylor. I have been denied by the Angel of Justice the passage of my soul into Heaven. I am here to petition for passage. O most holy Council of Elder Angels, will you hear my plea?"

The angel in the middle of the table replied, "We shall hear your plea Christine Abigail Taylor. Step forward that you may be seen, heard, and judged by all."

So far so good, Christine thought. She let herself breathe as she stepped into the center of the crescent. The light coming from the windows seemed to spotlight her face as she stood there. She took another deep breath to calm herself, and with a loud, clear voice, she spoke.

"On the day I died, my fiancé came home in a drunken rage. On this fateful day, my little sister Carly was the unfortunate recipient of his rage. Though I tried to stop the fight, or at least redirect his anger away from her, I was unsuccessful, and struck down in the process. The attempted intervention on my part made my fiancé's rage worsen. I did my best to get in between them and stop the fight, but…" Christine broke off. She was on the verge of tears.

"…but what?" The center angel asked. She couldn't help but see all those depictions of Jesus Christ when she looked at him, yet he was markedly less remarkable than his depictions made him out to be. He had the same shoulder length wavy brown hair, and soft brown eyes, but he looked like a normal man to her. One you could see walking down the street on any given day. She smiled inwardly. She was going to Hell now for sure because of that thought.

Looking on the face of the Son of God seemed to calm her nerves, and she took another deep breath and went on.

"Getting in between him made him angrier than ever, and he pushed me backwards, into my sister Carly. She had passed out from shock by then, and when I was pushed into her, it caused her to smash through the window head first and fall 14 stories to her death. Grief stricken at the loss of my little sister, and with nowhere to escape from my fiancé, I followed her out the window, arriving dead on the pavement right next to her."

She felt nervous and took a moment to look upon the faces of the seven angels gathered before her. She cleared her throat and started again.

"It was my fault that Carly died, and I wish to atone for having caused her untimely death in any way that I can so that I may one day join my sister in Heaven, and tell her how incredibly sorry I am for everything my foolishness caused."

She waited a long moment before Jesus spoke to her. "Is that all you wished to say?"

"Yes sir. That is all." Christine replied.

"Very well. We shall need a moment to deliberate. If you could please step outside so that we may do so. The door will open once more to let you in once we have decided." Jesus nodded to her, and the door behind her opened to let her out.

She and Charles stepped outside and the door closed itself behind them again. There was a lovely cherry tree in full bloom nearby, and she decided to sit under it while the angels deliberated. Charles followed her closely and sat cross-legged next to her under the tree. They hadn't been there basking in the sun for very long when Charles let out a heavy sigh.

Christine turned her head towards him. "What's the matter?" She asked, concerned.

At first he shook his head as though he wasn't going to tell her. Then he seemed to have changed his mind. He scrunched up his nose, looked her straight in the eye and said very seriously, "I'm not sure I'm allowed to say this but…" he paused a moment thinking. "Lady that was the best petition I've ever heard anyone give in all my 300 years of being here. You may have a chance at Heaven yet." His words heartened her and she smiled.

"Hey look, that doesn't mean much, okay?" He said quickly. "For the Council of Elder Angels to grant a petition is very rare. I've never seen anyone win."

Christine nodded, but couldn't help but feel good about her presentation anyway. She'd never given a speech of any kind before, and it felt good to know that someone thought it had gone well.

The door to the house opened again. Christine and Charles stood then and walked into the cottage. The door shut behind them.

Now the final judgment was at hand and she waited, somewhat anxiously, to hear their decision. She knew she had to get every angel's 'yay' votes, and no 'nay' votes if she wanted to win outright. Otherwise, it would be another round of questions and answers and more deliberations, until they finally agreed on a course of action. She looked at each of their faces for some sign of what their votes would be, but they were well learned, and concealed their decisions from showing on their faces. Then Jesus spoke.

"Christine Abigail Taylor, we, the Council of Elder Angels, have taken you into our council to decide your fate. You have presented us your reasons for taking council with us, and upon deliberation, each of us have decided what is to become of you. Now you shall hear each Elder Angel vote."

He turned to the angel farthest to his right, and Christine followed his gaze to the woman sitting there as well. Jesus spoke again. "Mother Mary, what is your Divine Judgment?"

Mary looked at Christine then and proclaimed, "Yay."

Christine sighed in relief and turned to the man sitting at Mary's left. "Luke," Jesus asked, "what is your Divine Judgment?"

Luke also looked at Christine and proclaimed, "Yay."

Christine watched as Matthew, Mark, John, and Mary Magdalene in turn all voted "Yay" on her behalf. Now only Jesus was left. Her knees were knocking.

"I am Jesus Christ of Nazareth, the son of the Lord God Almighty. I proclaim unto you my vote. Yay."

Christine smiled the biggest smile she could manage. She swore she heard Charles say "Yes!" under his breath behind her.

Jesus spoke once more. "You, Christine Abigail Taylor, have now heard our Divine Judgment and have avoided for the moment the consequence of going to Hell. In order to pay for your sins on Earth, the Council of Elder Angels has decided to accept you as one of our Heavenly mercenaries.

"The balance of power between Heaven and Hell on Earth is a precarious one. You must help keep the balance, and if at all possible, tip it towards Our side. Vanquish one of each type of the 7 deadly sins on Earth and you will be granted another meeting with the Council of Elder Angels to decide your fate once more.

"Know that the path that lies before you is a treacherous one. You will meet both friend and foe on your journey, but take heed not to falter in your goals on behalf of Heaven, lest you wish to become a Fallen one.

"You are being assigned an angel to monitor your progress. You must report to him whenever summoned, unless dire necessity proves otherwise. His name in this world is Azrael, though I am sure the earthen folk call him otherwise. After you leave here, he will instruct you further. Do you understand the terms of your new contract, and the conditions you must meet in order to fulfill these terms?"

"Yes I do." Christine knew she was being given another chance at Heaven, and she wasn't about to give it up for anything.

"Then this is our Divine Judgment Christine Abigail Taylor." Jesus said. "On behalf of all the members in the Council of Elder Angels, I wish you the deepest blessings. May the Lord God Almighty guide you well."

The door opened a final time, and Christine turned and walked out to face her new destiny.


	4. Chapter 03: Azrael

**Chapter Three****: ****Azrael**

She stepped out of the cottage and was met with a blinding light. All of Heaven seemed to be congratulating her on her small victory. Now she had a glimmer of hope that she would one day be able to reunite with Carly. She threw open her arms in exhilaration, and embraced the light. It wasn't until then that she realized that the light she was now embracing had a solid form. Perplexed at this discovery, she stepped back and attempted to shield her eyes for a better look.

The light gradually dimmed, and Christine put her hand down and stared, wide-eyed, at the angel in front of her. He was a tall angel with broad shoulders, and curly black hair which he chose to tame by tying it back with a silk ribbon in a deep red color. He wore a white loincloth, and carried himself with pride. His long, thick white wings elegantly hanging down from his shoulders, coupled with his rippling muscles made him a picture of masculinity that took Christine's breath away.

She immediately felt small and dejected, and she awkwardly scanned the area for something else to gape at. There was nothing there. She looked down at the ground and the silence between them grew, until Charles stepped up from behind Christine.

"Gees, Az. No need to be so unkind." He turned to Christine. "If you haven't already guessed, this is Azrael. And as of now, he's the one in charge of you." Christine looked up at the angel and grinned sheepishly. Charles turned back to Azrael. "Azrael this is..."

Azrael's deep voice cut him off. "Christine Abigail Taylor. Yes I am aware. Though I daresay she is more aware of me at the moment than I shall ever be of her." Christine turned an intense shade of red at his pointed observation.

"Yeah well," Charles replied, "I'll admit I would have thought you to have more decency. I guess there is a point to this, even if I can't see it." He turned back to Christine again. "Hey lady, Good luck, and God Bless. Maybe we'll meet again." Christine nodded her agreement, and Charles left for the tram.

She suddenly became aware that she was alone with the beautiful and intimidating angel. She stared off into nothingness so as to not go gaping at him again. He called to her, but even then she was afraid to look. "Miss Taylor, do compose yourself well enough to converse with me." He said. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and then opened her eyes again to face him. She was surprised yet again, not by abs of steel, but this time by his beautiful and perfectly tailored suit. He looked stunning in it. It was a handsome off-white shade, and his necktie was the same shade of crimson red as the ribbon still tying his hair back. At least now she could look at his face and not be distracted by the rest of him.

"Thank you." Christine said, relieved.

"Yes, well. You weren't handling my true form well, so I decided to change into something a bit less perfect. I feared you wouldn't concentrate on my words if I had stayed." He paused a moment, thinking. "Shall we continue this elsewhere? I am not fond of standing around."

"Sure." Christine said. She could barely find her voice.

"Very well then. Seeing as you cannot actually pass into Heaven itself, it is off to my home. I find it quite a bit more comfortable than anywhere else in Heaven's outer boundaries." He led the way to the tram, and Christine chose to sit across from him rather than next to him. She decided it was easier to look at him from the tram window's reflection than it was to sit next to him. She wasn't entirely sure she could be that close to him without hyperventilating anyway.

She was already starting to feel a bit panicked. She barely knew him, and yet there she was, being taken steadily closer to his home, the place where his most treasured personal belongings were sure to be concealed. It was his sanctuary, and knowing this made her feel hopelessly like she was going to step foot in his home, and never be allowed out.

And what did it mean? He was inviting her into his home, knowing virtually nothing about her, and yet he seemed as though it was just another day at the office. Was he always that nonchalant about things or was he just a master of hiding his emotions?

She shook the thoughts as best as she could out of her head. Azrael was her handler, and nothing more. She was making more out of it than there really was. She constantly overanalyzed things to a fault. She supposed that was one of the reasons the people she met always told her she'd make a good therapist some day.

She began to wonder when she would be going back to Earth, and what evils she could possibly hope to vanquish while she was there. Aside from greedy politicians, mass murderers, and the occasional war-faring country, she couldn't think of anything evil enough to have to be vanquished. She supposed it would have to be a question to ask Azrael later on when they got to his home.

She gasped. His home. She came back to reality almost immediately, and saw Azrael looking at her curiously. The tram was stopped, and had been for a while it seemed, yet he had made no attempt to get her attention. She wondered how long they had been sitting there.

Before she had a chance to even apologize, Azrael said to her, "I know what you think about going to my home, but you must know that I simply enjoy sitting in my recliner at home more than being anywhere else in the world. It is a simple pleasure, but one that I indulge myself in fully whenever I should get the chance." With that he stood, and stepped off the tram, leaving Christine as perplexed about the angel as ever.

"Come now," he said over his shoulder. "My chair awaits me. Do not be the reason for my delay, or you shall face my displeasure."

Christine heeded his warning and quickly got off the tram. She hurried to catch up with him, and barely reached the door right as he did. She was woefully aware that she needed to get into shape.

Azrael turned to her before opening his door. "I have a request of you that you remove any footwear before entering my domicile. It is a custom I had when in the world of the living, and one that I keep even unto the land of the dead." He slipped his shoes off and headed inside. Christine quickly took her flats off and did the same.

The room she stepped into was too dark to see in at first, but Azrael opened a few of the drapes and lit a large candle in the center of a large wooden table. The wood had a beautiful dark stain on it, and appeared to be one solid piece. Christine couldn't help but feel curious about it, and asked him how he acquired a piece of furniture so beautifully crafted.

"The table?" He asked. "It was woven especially for me by a tree nymph, and made of a certain type of rare wood she knew I was fond of. A man infatuated for her grew wild with jealousy upon finding out who she had crafted this table for, and she died in the ensuing fight. I keep the table to remind me how fickle love really is."

Azrael sighed a heavy sigh and sank down into his favorite chair. It was the least brilliant piece in the entire room, and probably the whole house as well. Why he liked it so much, she couldn't tell. He invited her to sit down, and she chose a cushy looking armchair adjacent to him.

"So you live alone then?" She asked, curious.

Azrael turned his face away and stared blankly out of the window beside his chair. "I much prefer to be alone. It is a great deal simpler that way."

He clearly didn't seem to want to talk about himself, and Christine doubted she'd ever really get to know him unless he did. She busied herself momentarily with looking about the room. Everything about the room was simple, but it was all as masculine and gorgeous as he was. His home seemed to fit him quite well.

Azrael looked at her again. "Well, you are here for a reason. The first thing you need to understand is that Earth is home to many creatures, not just the humans and animals. It is therefore safe to assume that most of the folklore humans possess is, at least in part, based in truth."

Christine's eyes lit up. "You mean like gnomes, and fairies, and elves, and dwarves, and ..."

"Not the gnomes." Azrael said. "But otherwise, yes. You seem to be on the right track. There are other things also—ghosts, vampires, demons, nymphs, and other deities besides. Like humans, these creatures all create their own destinies. Not all fairies are good, nor all ghosts evil." He paused, thinking. "Only those intent on making life on Earth a living Hell should be vanquished. Do you understand this much?"

"Yes, I do." Christine replied. She was beginning to get excited. All her favorite stories were real.

"Good." Azrael sighed. "I'm glad you catch on quickly. That makes it easier. Now understand that vanquishing an enemy does not necessarily have to mean killing them outright, and sending them back to Hell. Vanquishing a foe simply means to cease them from acting against Heaven, and, if at all possible, turning them to Our side. Sometimes you can speak with the enemy and vanquish them just as well. Persuasiveness can win as many battles as killing can. Do keep that in mind.

Christine nodded. She wasn't entirely sure she understood everything he was saying and was starting to feel overwhelmed with the enormity of it all.

Azrael continued. "There will of course be times where a fight with a particularly Hellish creature is imminent. I would urge you not to come in contact with these folk to avoid such needless bloodshed. However, just as you will be looking for them, so too will they be looking for you. Persuasion will not be enough to convert them all to Our side. The Council of Elder Angels does not look kindly upon failure. Therefore, you must choose a suitable weapon to aid you in your fights."

Christine was confused. "A weapon?" She asked. "Where would I find such a thing?"

"After these preliminaries, I will bring you down into my basement. I have a fine collection of weapons I am particularly fond of. This is my other reason for bringing you here today. I daresay you shall find a weapon that you will like." Azrael paused a moment to give Christine time for more questions. When none came, he continued.

"The terms of your contract are thus: There are seven deadly sinners on Earth. Vanquish one of each of them, and you shall be allowed to return to have your case reevaluated by the council. Fail in any task, and you shall become part of the Fallen, going straight to Hell. These terms are your binding contract with Heaven.

"Remember always that you are a messenger of the Lord God Almighty, and as such, everything you do must be done only in His name and service. Any stray from the path of righteousness in the name of the Lord God Almighty is considered high treason against Him and such treachery against Him is dealt with swiftly. Heed my words. The Fallen are the worst of the worst. They are stripped of their Heavenly graces, and go straight to Hell. Should this happen, there would be no coming back to Heaven. You know what this would mean for you, yes?"

She knew exactly what it meant, and could barely find her voice. She swallowed hard. "No Carly." She said, terrified.

"Indeed." Azrael replied. "In any case, those are the details of your assignment. Do you have any further questions?"

Christine couldn't think of anything else to ask at the moment, so she shook her head no.

"Very well then." Azrael reluctantly stood from his chair. Christine stood as well. "Then let us be off to my basement. I think my collection is impressive enough to please." Azrael walked out of the living room and Christine followed suit. This was the beginning of her new destiny.


	5. Chapter 04: Neither Here nor There

**Chapter Four**

A lowly demon ran the poorly lit corridor as fast as he could. It was crowded with souls, but these were not particularly vicious ones, and he pushed to the ground any who dare stand in his way, without fear of retaliation. He had a very important message he needed to deliver, and the faster he got it there, the less wrath he would face.

When he was out of the corridor he began putting on speed. If he didn't reach his master soon, he would be very displeased. His path took him deeper underground than he'd ever been before. The ghostly bodies this far down were fewer, because not many demons could stand the searing heat. Even though it was dark, he found his way through the labyrinth of tunnels easily enough. The foul stench that was stagnant in the air was enough to tell him that was the way to go.

He finally saw the door he was looking for at the end of the path up ahead. It was a solid metal door with intricate symbols carved in red all along the edge. Standing in front of the great door made him aware of how hot it actually was down there, and he knew at once that the source of the heat lay beyond it. He found a large metal knocker, and took it in his hand to knock on the door. Instantly it singed the flesh off of his hand as he made quickly to knock three times.

The door opened slowly inward, and the most intense heat he had ever felt washed over him. There were two souls operating the chain mechanism behind the door, and they seemed to buckle with the task. They must have been fortunate indeed to make it into the perpetual service of the master. Fortunate, or very stupid.

The demon entered the master's chambers slowly, and looked about. He found the throne he was told the master frequented, and was perplexed to find that it was empty. He looked around nervously, as his instructions didn't say what to do in such a situation. He spotted a small creature at the far end of the room, and made his way over to it to inquire further.

As he got closer to it, he realized the creature he had taken to be a small demon was not a small creature at all, but a man sitting in a pool of boiling hot lava. The smell of sulfur hung thickly in the air, and he hesitated at the edge of the pool.

"Who are you, and what does a scumbag like you want?" The man said. His voice was the most evil sound the demon had ever known, and even after years of being around particularly evil beings, nothing had prepared him for this. The man was pure evil of an entirely different caliber, and everything from his sleek black hair, to his red eyes reeked of it. The realization of who this man must be instantly chilled him to the bone.

Another man with wings as black as night stepped out from the shadows that clung to the walls. "Your Master has asked you a question. I suggest you answer him, or I shall kill you where you stand for your insolence." His left hand gripped the hilt of the sword on his hip threateningly.

The demonic messenger managed to find his voice then. "Master Lucifer, I am a messenger in the service of the Reapers. I was sent with an urgent message for you."

"Very well. Speak." Lucifer said, clearly annoyed.

"Master Lucifer, there's been a problem with Heaven sir. Turns out there's been treason committed by someone up there, and as it turns out, well..." The demon began to lose his nerve.

"Spit it out you filthy vermin!" Lucifer roared angrily.

"Well you see Master Lucifer, one of the souls the Reapers were rightfully to collect upon never showed on the collection platform, and any attempts to inquire further have been denied." He finished dismally.

"What!" Lucifer's rage was clear. "What do you mean it never showed up? You lost one of my souls?"

"You see, um, Master Lucifer, Uh, we just don't know what happened to it, exactly, it just... isn't there." The demon spluttered hopelessly.

Lucifer's rage grew uncontrollably. He hissed an awful hiss and stood from his lava pool menacingly. He reached out with his right hand and pierced the demon's throat with two fingers. "Message received." Lucifer hissed delightedly. "I hope you have fun working your way through the layers of Hell again." He said, as he spread his fingers wide, chopping the demon's head clear off his shoulders.

Lucifer shook the demon's blood off his hand and swept over to the Dark Angel awaiting his command. "Find out where the soul is," Lucifer hissed, "and kill the Reaper responsible for its loss. Once you have done so, take no further action. Report back to me at once with your findings. Do you understand?"

The Dark Angel put an arm over his chest in salute. "Yes Master Lucifer. I shall do as you command." The Dark Angel turned around and speedily made his way out of the room.

All at once Lucifer was alone, and he sat back in his lava pool to brood.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" A voice spoke softly from across the crescent table.

"What's to fear?" Another voice replied. "The girl won't make it either way."

"Are you so sure?" Another Angel spoke.

"She is weak. She won't last."

Jesus spoke. "Calm down. Now hear my words." The Council of Elder Angels all went silent at once and turned to face Jesus. "Should the girl make it back to us, it matters not."

"But she was determined!" Mark interrupted. "You could see it in her eyes!"

"Silence! Listen to me." Jesus said, annoyed. "Determined or not, if she should return, it still does not matter. We promised her another meeting, and nothing more."

"I see. So that is your plan then." Mark replied. "And should she fail any task, she goes to be by the Fallen One's side."

"Correct." Jesus said. "Be at ease my Angels, and let this matter not trouble you any further."

"Yes Jesus. We understand." They all replied in unison.


	6. Chapter 05: Lustful Intentions

**Chapter Five**

A figure appeared from out of the clouds. Unseen by the human eye, Christine's silhouette barely even cast a shadow. She glided down to Earth effortlessly, crash-landing with a bump on Earth's soil. It was a good thing her rear end had as much padding as it did, or she'd have broken something for sure.

She stood up, dusted herself off, and took a look around. It'd been so long since she'd seen Earth that being back on solid footing was a little disorienting.

That was entirely thanks to Azrael. He wouldn't let her leave Heaven until she was properly trained in combat with her chosen weapons. He said he didn't want her doing unnecessary damage to them. And so for three whole months he trained her in combat techniques until at last he was satisfied with her progress, and let her leave.

Being a Mercenary for Heaven gave her certain advantages on Earth. For one, no human or animal could see her, though some animals and exceptionally attuned humans could sense her spiritual presence from time to time. Another thing that she was gifted with was a pair of beautiful white wings that glistened brightly in the sunlight.

It was this new asset that hindered her most during combat training. They slowed her down, and learning to fly while being shot at was a painful process. Azrael never took it easy on her. Even more painful were her attempts to land, which were always crash-landings. She still hadn't got a handle on landing on her feet, as her stinging backside dully reminded her. At least, from what she could tell, she had landed in the right place on Earth.

Her first assignment from Azrael was going to be a relatively easy one. She was to track down a low-class demon of the Lust type who had been frequenting a certain woman as of late. The woman, frustrated with her husband's prolonged absences due to military obligations, had begun seeking out a new man who could better care for her needs. Lust began frequenting her favorite bar and buying her an occasional drink. A demon though he was, Lust was more aroused by the torture of each of his victims, and as such, he made a great effort to get to know each and every one of them.

Christine made it a point to visit the bar during the daytime, but though she listened to the conversations in the bar all day, the barkeep there didn't seem to know anything about the night crew or their clientele. Much to her dismay, Christine spent the better part of four evenings at the bar. She was beginning to think that she might already be too late to save the woman, fearing her lead was dead. That was when a woman matching the description in Lust's file entered the bar.

She was short and stout, with straight, dirty blonde hair that fell beneath her shoulders. She wore a well-loved pair of blue jeans, and a light gray blouse, the same color as her eyes. She glanced tentatively around the bar, apparently looking for someone who had yet to arrive. Then she walked up to the bartender, ordered herself a liquid cocaine, and took a seat at an empty table near the entrance. She lit up a cigarette and waited.

Christine made her way closer to the woman in order to get a better idea of who she was. It was tricky to move around the bar. Even invisible, Christine could make things move and could be felt as a solid object if touched. She couldn't fly; the bar's ceiling was much too low for that. So she made her way into a corner behind the woman very slowly and carefully, skirting anyone who might notice her, or anything she could accidentally move. Even though the humans couldn't see her, they could feel her if they touched.

Luckily, Lust was a human too. In fact they all were. Each person on Earth holds both a deadly sin and a heavenly virtue within their hearts. The person who holds the most of each sin or virtue will become the manifestation of it on Earth. If at any point that person dies, becomes vanquished, or by any other means drop in their rankings, the second highest person on Earth will become the newest manifestation.

Unfortunately, most people on Earth do not know that either side exists, and live their life in utter ignorance. And though many people would say that ignorance is bliss, for the woman sitting in front of her, and countless others before her, they would find out too late that ignorance could get them killed.

And so there she was, sitting at a table, sipping her drink, smoking her cigarette, and altogether being ignorant, while waiting all the while anxiously waiting for death to come for her and take her away. But it wasn't going to happen. Not tonight. Not if Christine could stop it.

Christine waited. She watched the woman intently while she gazed at the door. Suddenly the door swung open, and an unnaturally chilly breeze came through the door, along with a very handsome young man, around the age of 20. Christine stared wide-eyed at the newcomer, in disbelief. He had straight black hair, combed back and stuck there with more gel than was necessary. It made his hair perpetually shiny and wet-looking. His white collared shirt was starched stiff, and he wore it unbuttoned slightly. A Pair of dark blue jeans fell lazily over his hips, and the belt he wore was barely holding them in place.

He had no real distinguishing marks, and yet he was so very different from everyone else in the bar. It must have been his eyes. They were a shade of brown that could easily have passed for red. Or perhaps they were red. Christine couldn't tell from this distance. The woman at the table recognized him at once and straightened. She relaxed only slightly after he proceeded to pay no attention to her and made his way to the bar for a drink. Lust had arrived.

The thought of what this man was capable of sent a shiver down Christine's spine. She watched him talking to the bartender, an old friend of his it would seem, making some comment or another that gave the bartender a good chuckle. He lazily looked around, pretended for a second time not to notice the woman who was waiting for him at the table near the front, and the bartender drew his attention once more by serving him his beer.

The woman at the table stirred and got up. Christine followed her as she swept past Lust, catching his eye at last, and made her way to the bathroom. She knew she had to vanquish Lust, but she couldn't think of how to do it. If Lust followed this woman into the bathroom, she might be dead for hours before anyone noticed her there. This didn't seem a very woman-friendly bar, and she doubted many women came in, let alone needed to use the bathroom. Still, here she was in the stall, waiting for him.

He kept her waiting a good long time before making his way to the bathroom. Christine was panicking. She had no idea what would make him stop. She couldn't just kill the guy, because it would traumatize the poor woman sitting in the stall. She needed to think of something fast, or this woman was going to die right in front of her eyes.

His pants dropped, and the sight of his wallet in his back pocket gave Christine a glimmer of hope. A memory of a rebellious Carly, playing as loud as she dared to the most obnoxious music she could find, so that Daniel would stop hurting Christine, popped into her head. She swiped the wallet and ran out the door to the interior of the bar. She found the bar's jukebox stuffed away in a corner and, thinking quickly, pulled up the only gospel singer she knew, Elvis Presley. There, somewhere between "Hound Dog" and "Don't Be Cruel" was "Amazing Grace." She hit play, and the people in the bar immediately looked around to see who had played such an unlikely bar song, though they could see no one around.

"What a cock-blocker!" A man nudging up to a much younger woman said loudly in the direction of the bartender. The bartender smiled, and turned the music up. As she made her way back to the bathroom stall, she overheard the bartender telling the now angry customer, "Son, sometimes even the good Lord needs to remind us that he's here. If you don't like His choice in music, well, you can just clear out. As for me, I hear his message loud and clear." Christine smiled and made her way back into the bathroom.

Opening the door gave way to a dubious sound. She slipped inside the bathroom to inquire further. It seemed that Lust was crying. And in fact not just crying, but weeping the tears of grief for the death of his poor mama, who, so far as she could tell, loved Elvis Presley, and would play his music as loud as she could whenever she wasn't dragging her son by the ear to or from church. The change in his temperament was baffling to the young woman who was now comforting him as he sat with the door open in the stall in front of her.

He told the woman how sorry he was for what he might have done to her, and he promised through his sobs, and more to himself than to her, that hurting any woman would be like hurting his own mama, and he could never hurt anyone like that again.

Christine let out a huge sigh of relief. Her task was complete, and her first deadly sin was vanquished. Awkwardly so. She decided she'd better check in with Azrael. He might have gleaned something new in the time she was away, and she needed to make a report anyway. And so she left the bar, and flew back towards Heaven.


	7. Chapter 06: In Trouble

**Chapter Six**

He looked at her over the files, eyebrow raised. "Your strategy actually worked? How did you come up with such a ridiculous plan? Elvis?"

Christine shifted on her feet. She looked down nervously as her face began to flush. "I didn't expect it to happen that way exactly." She began. "I just meant it to stop him from…hurting her." She explained lamely. "It all happened so fast, I guess I just panicked. I assumed he would leave the bathroom in anger, trying to find out who played the song, and I could get him then. Stop him from hurting anyone else."

Silence hung in the air. Azrael put the papers down on his large wooden table, and leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced on his stomach. "I do not condone your methodology. It is much simpler to get the Deadly Sinner alone and kill them. So little have you retained of what I have painstakingly taught you that I cannot see how you will ever be allowed to see your sister again."

"But Az!" She cried.

"Do not shorten my name as you are wont to do. I am Azrael and you shall address me as such!" Azrael roared.

"Yes Azrael. I'm sorry." Tears began streaming down Christine's face.

"Now then. As I was saying, I do not approve of your ways; however, you did manage to bring three humans His way."

"Three?" Christine asked, confused.

"Your target Lust, the woman Lust was after that night, and the bartender, who, as I understand it, has apparently sold his bar to a cousin, and is currently making his way to his son where he plans to make amends with him, after having lost his trust one violent, drunken night so many years ago."

"I can't believe it! That's great news!" She was clearly relieved.

"Yes, it is. However, you must realize that your strategy was likely to fail from the beginning. Can you afford to fail?" Azrael looked at her pointedly. Christine shook her head no. "Well then you must strategize better from here on out. Do not panic under pressure. Rather, keep your head and think quickly.

"Your next assignment is Greed. She lives in Northern California, but will be going to New York City for a talk show interview. She is an actress turned pop star, and the daughter of a one-hit-wonder. She owns her own clothing line. Greed is young, and yet nothing she does is ever enough for her. No matter how much money she makes, she always wants more.

"Go to her now. And do not allow your emotions to cloud your judgment. Do not forget what is at stake for you." He gave her the file on Greed and waved her out of the room.

"Yes Azrael. Thank you." Christine bowed slightly, and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Christine…" Azrael called after her. She stopped and turned around. "Never mind. Perhaps I will tell you this later."

Christine nodded and turned back around, leaving Azrael's house for her new destination.

The Dark Angel walked into Lucifer's chamber without knocking. It was his own privilege that was accorded to him, being one of Lucifer's elite Dark Angel Mercenaries. They were Hell's finest, hand selected by Lucifer, and their station was the most coveted in all of Hell. Lucifer was sitting lazily on his throne, head leaning on his hand. The Dark Angel walked towards Lucifer without making a sound, but Lucifer knew he was there.

"You have news for me then Samael?" Lucifer's voice was slithery as a snake today.

Samael finished walking towards Lucifer before speaking. "Yes Master Lucifer. It seems the woman's name is Christine Abigail Taylor. She has been made a Mercenary for Heaven." He reported monotonously.

"She is a suicide. She cannot be theirs, she automatically belongs to me. How has it come to be so?"

"The Council of Elder Angels appears to be to blame. They have acted of their own accord. The woman asked for an appeal, and, seeing opportunity, they allowed that she work for them in exchange. She had no other choice but to agree."

"I see. And how did you come by this information?"

"The woman has been making trouble on Earth."

"Trouble?" Lucifer straightened in his chair.

"Yes, she has been set to work on vanquishing one of each of the 7 Deadly Sins back on Earth. Lust was the first of them to go. Another Lust has come into fruition half a world away, but she has managed to tip the balance a tiny bit towards them."

"I see. She cannot keep quiet for too long. Send someone to watch her. She will have to kill someone sooner or later, and our psychopomps will have them once she does. Have them report to you immediately should something turn up. Once you have done so, you may have some time for yourself. I will not be needing you today."

"Yes Master Lucifer." Samael bowed his head slightly.

"And what have you done about the faulty psychopomp?" Lucifer inquired. "I trust you killed them."

"Viciously." Samael smiled wickedly.

"Good. It will take him a long time to work back up to the psychopomp office from the layer he is in. The higher one is when one fails, the lower a layer you begin again from." Lucifer chucked to himself slightly. "You are dismissed."

Samael bowed once more and left the chamber.


	8. Chapter 07: Greediness

**Chapter Seven**

Azrael knelt momentarily upon the dais before standing once more. The Council of Elder Angels was assembled in full today in order to hear his progress report.

Azrael's voice took on his most formal tone. "Elders, I have come to bring you tidings of Miss Taylor's progress on her first mission. If it would please you, I..."

"Rumor has it that her first mission was a total fiasco and she just barely scraped by." Mary Magdalene sounded contemptuous. "Who was it she went after? Lust was it? And he's just a small fry." A few elders chuckled.

"Yes, that's true. But the results..." Azrael began again.

"Yes, yes... three people have been turned to our side in her wake. I understand that. But it was sheer luck, and I highly doubt that she will get by so easily with Greed." She sounded almost triumphant. Azrael was more than a little confused, but continued.

"I have counseled her about her actions, and have made clear to her my dissatisfaction with her performance." Azrael said. The elders chucked appreciatively about this statement. He couldn't understand what it was that was so funny. "Excuse me for saying so, but I really don't think this is something to laugh at. Her soul is entirely at stake here, and so is the balance of the world. If there is something I do not understand, I would like to know what it is."

"Christine is a suicide." John said frankly.

Azrael felt like his whole world was collapsing. If she really was a suicide, then no matter what she did, she would still not be allowed into Heaven. "If you knew this all along, then why...?"

Jesus changed the subject. "Do you know why we are the eldest angels, Azrael?"

"Sir?" Azrael was confused by the abrupt change in subject.

"It is because we were the first humans since the lord created Adam and Eve to follow the path that the Lord has set forth. There was nothing here in heaven when we arrived, except the Lord. At first the nothingness was sufficient. We needed nothing but His Holiness. But when more and more humans started coming to the Light of the Lord, Heaven was becoming overrun, and eventually a system had to be put in place to take in all the souls that had started arriving. The Lord asked the eldest angels to see to it that we take care of such things. We built Heaven from the ground up."

"That's quite an amazing feat. I admit I never knew the rich history Heaven has." Azrael replied cautiously, still unsure of where this was going.

"We did it because he asked it of us. We want only to serve Him." Luke said passionately.

"Indeed." He agreed. "This is why we are accorded such a high positioning in Heaven. Now then, knowing full well how important we are, do you presume to question our judgment Azrael? Might I remind you that we are the reason that you have been accorded such a high station! And furthermore, I do recall a number of worldly possessions which you have been accorded based on your performance in the service of the Lord."

Now properly chastised, Azrael remained silent.

"Well now. The Council of Elder Angels is of the disposition that despite your best efforts to train her, Miss Taylor is still going to fail in her task. Her abysmal first assignment only reinforces this conviction, and for this reason, we do not believe that anything is amiss." A few members on the council looked uneasy but did not speak.

Comprehension dawned on Azrael's face as he began to grasp the full depth of the implications. Under direct supervision by the Lord Almighty, and knowing full well that Christine was a suicide, the Council of Elder Angels had allowed her to take on the task of defeating the Deadly Sins. They never intended her to succeed. In fact, they wouldn't care less if she didn't. And if she got a few and turned a few others to the Lord's side in the process, so much the better for them.

"I see you have surmised our true intentions. We do not deny it. We have the whole of Heaven to think of after all. Our judgment in Miss Taylor's case still stands, and we shall speak of this no more. Continue to provide us reports on Miss Taylor's progress. That is all."

"Thank you all for seeing me." Azrael said. He bowed from the waist and then straightened. He turned then, and nearly ran out the door, much worse off than when he arrived.

Alone in her dressing room, Greed awaited her call to be on stage at the talk show. She was on top of the world as far as anyone else was concerned, and having her appear on a dead-beat talk show was sure to pull ratings.

Christine brushed up on the latest assignment by reading the file on Greed. The young woman seemed to want anything and everything, and was bound and determined to take it by force if she had to. Though she started out as a farm girl from the south, she landed the lead role in a television show aimed towards young children and teens. This launched her career, and because of her fame, she began craving for more.

She became a singing, songwriting pop star, iconic of many of the famous teens of her generation, and from there, she started acting, albeit terribly, in a few films that got astoundingly poor reviews. Despite some scandalous photos, and more than a few bad decisions which kept her in the spotlight quite a bit longer than was ever necessary, her dabbles in multiple different endeavors which also included singing at cancer-fighting events and her own atrocious clothing line made her an easy million, the likes of which much more talented individuals would never get the chance to see.

Christine sighed. People like this made her sick. It was these kinds of people that stepped on you while going up, and never looked back. The only reason this girl stayed famous despite her lack of talent of any kind was that she brainwashed young girls into thinking she was a great role model while at the same time flashed enough skin that the creepy old men took an interest. Unfortunately, the young pop star turned sex symbol image really sold well these days, and it didn't seem like that was going to end any time soon.

That was why Christine needed to put a stop to this young girl's greediness once and for all. It wouldn't cure the world of its blatant misunderstanding of what real talent was, but it might serve as a warning to other brain-dead idiots growing up wanting to be just like her.

Greed thought about her career as she waited for the knock on the door. She was utterly alone, and her only recourse was to surround herself with everything that she could. But it was never enough. Just as the depression of fame began to kick in, a knock was at her door.

"We're at commercials. You're on Stage Left in 5." A voice called through her door.

"Okay! I'll be right out!" Greed called back, as cheerily as she could manage. She put on her show face, the only face she could bear to show the world, and walked out of her dressing room, closing the door behind her.

It was a tight shave, trying to make it into Greed's dressing room without being noticed. Christine tried to slip in before Greed's door shut, but she wasn't able to make it in time and she had to pull back out. She waited to let herself in until Greed had made it down the hallway and turned the corner leading to Stage Left.

Invisible though she may have been, the obviousness of Greed's door opening and closing, seemingly of its own accord, drew the attention of the stage manager who was coming down the hall again to queue the next celebrity due on stage. The stage manager opened the door, stepped inside, looked around, and, satisfied, turned on her heel, slamming the door behind her. Christine let out a sigh of relief and made herself comfortable.

It had only been a few minutes, but it was one of the worst few minutes of her life. Greed stormed off the stage and down the hall toward her dressing room, feeling incensed at the talk show host's audacity.

Christine panicked. With the two women in the room, she couldn't just off Greed like Azrael had suggested she do. It would create a huge stir on Earth, and she imagined the fallout from an obvious stabbing from an invisible foe would be a nightmare for everyone involved. She had to stop panicking and think things through properly before she did something very stupid. She tried to calm herself down, and in an instant a plan came to her. It was a very clever plan, but as it had been born in desperation, she wasn't entirely sure how orchestrating the plan would work out. With the right timing, she could make it happen.

Christine waited until the two women opened the door before sliding out behind them. She needed to get past them, but they were walking down the hallway next to one another, and there was no way she could squeeze past without bumping into them. She stared feeling anxious. The plan had to work. This was her only chance to make it happen. She had no choice but to follow along behind the women.

Greed's mother opened the door for her. Greed passed through and out into a cheering crowd. A moment later her mother followed, and let go of the door. Christine dashed through as the door was shutting, nearly bumping into Greed's mother in the process. She opened her wings, taking off into full flight in the middle of the pathway. Her foot kicked one of Greed's fans in the head, but he seemed to assume it was someone trying to squeeze into the front from behind him, and let it pass.

Christine flew as fast as she dared with her landings being what they were, and sure enough, crashed right into the side of the limo. The limo driver was just coming around to the passenger side to open the door for Greed and her mother. He nearly stepped on her wing as she tucked them wings in against her back. He paused and waited a moment before opening the door for her. Christine dashed in the limo, frantically attempting to avoid touching the driver, or being touched by Greed as she was followed into the limo. Feeling her presence before it was time would surely have alarmed her.

Greed got into the limo, and before her mother could follow her, Christine yanked the door out of the limo driver's hand and slammed it shut, making sure to lock the limo as she did so. Christine could hear muffled cries of outrage as Greed's mother began screaming, "What's the meaning of this? What is your problem? Get this door open right this instant driver or your hide will be mine!" He tried helplessly to wrench the door open. When he found it locked, he made a dash to the other side of the limo, trying that passenger door as well. They could not see inside the limo, and as the entire vehicle was locked tight, neither he nor Greed's mother could get in.

Christine was safe inside so long as Greed didn't unlock the door. Curiously enough, Greed didn't seem to be making any swift movements in order to do so. "Thank you for that moment of silence. I'll have to let them in soon, but first, I'd like to know who you are, and for that matter, why you've been following me around the set all day long without anyone else seeming to notice you. Is this a cruel joke played by my mother?" Greed looked directly into Christine's eyes. This was indeed unexpected. Greed could see her. She had been able to see her all day. Christine sighed in resignation. She did not want to have to explain herself to this woman. She was an obstacle in the way of seeing Carly again, and Christine really did not want to have to think too hard about what she must do in order to eliminate this obstacle.

Azrael had made it quite clear she should just kill the Sins and be done with it. She didn't know how long Azrael had been dead, but with a name like that, she knew it must have been a very long time indeed. She had not been dead so long that she had forgotten about humanity. Someone famous like Greed being killed by an unseen foe would seriously upset the balance of the way things were run on Earth. Her plan was still to off the woman, but she needed to make it seem like it had been done by someone else. Someone human. Perhaps a rabid fan who had climbed into Greed's limo, couldn't get what they wanted out of her, and then killed her and fled. At least that would sound better to the cops than some unknown force or deity killing her. In any case, Greed had folded her arms across her chest, and was expecting a response. She sighed again.

"Though I am a bit surprised you noticed me, I really cannot explain who or what I am." Christine said slowly.

"So this is an assassination attempt then? Who hired you?" Greed demanded.

"I was hired by no one. I am here of my own volition. You cannot understand the trouble you have caused to those around you. Even if I could explain it to you, you would not see reason. But you have the world at your every whim, and it is still not enough. I must put an end to you once and for all, Greed!" Christine lunged at Greed just as Greed unlocked the door. She had not noticed Greed leaning over, inching her fingers towards the unlocking mechanism, and was caught unaware by Greed's stalling for time. The passenger side door to the limo was wrenched open. Christine was out of time.

She reached under her left wing and pulled a dagger out of its sheathe. The hilt was silver, and the pearlescent blade of the dagger was lavishly embellished with silver filigree. The craftsmanship of the dagger was an incredible sight. All time seemed to stop as Greed's mother began to poke her head into the door. Greed attempted to grab Christine's arm as if to struggle, but she just missed, though her fingernails managed to loosely gouge Christine's side. Greed was all hers now. She had no defense.

Christine slit her throat from ear to ear. There was no repairing the damage the blade would do. Even if she hadn't cut so deeply, the demonic aura of the blade would cause the wound to fester, and it would spread at an alarming rate. The person wounded with the blade could not be saved. Time caught up with Christine, and she pulled the door open as quickly as she could, banging the limo driver to the ground in the process. She tumbled out of the limo, so she wouldn't get caught under the weight of Greed falling out of the door. She sheathed her blade once more. With a running start, she took flight. She needed to get away from the gruesome scene, and make her way as quickly as she could back to Heaven.


End file.
